Avoided
by Meleficent16
Summary: Clarissa Fray has been sheltered her whole life by a woman who hated her, and a man who would hardly make eye-contact with her. After a passing Clary is free, she moves to a small beachfront town in Florida to further her writing career. Everything about her new life is perfect. Her job, her look, her writing,...her neighbor.


_**Hey there. Well I've read countless fics based on The Shadowhunter Chronicles, so I figured why not create this. This story line is actually based on another novel I've read. I fell in love with the idea of two polar opposites in love, so I decided to borrow that and the Shadowhunter gang to create this fic. So cheers to Avoided.**_

"Clarissa, shut the light out." Mrs. Morgenstern's voice broke into my thoughts. I looked down from the journal I was writing into to look at the woman who was my guardian. I grew up with her, but was still scared to call her mother. Lesson learned from when I was seven, and invited her to my first mother-daughter ball only to receive a slap in the face and a beating. It was the first time I ever called someone my mother… and the last.

"Yes ma'am." I replied placing my almost full tiffany bound leather journal onto the bookshelf next to my bed. I have been writing in these since I was six. Growing up I liked to tell stories, Pastor Morgenstern enjoyed them. Mrs. Morgenstern did not, I received beatings for lying, after that I stopped telling stories. One day Pastor Morgenstern handed me my first tiffany bound leather journal.

He said, "For your stories." and nothing else. Although I did receive a lot more beatings from Mrs. Morgenstern for being materialistic and taking Pastor Morgenstern's money. That was the one time Pastor Morgenstern stood up for me. He made her stop, and he continued buying me journals. I still had the beatings, they were just done in secret. I didn't mind much though because I fell in love with what I was doing…writing.

"And say your prayers. Thank God your alive and well and not dead like your mother." She snapped with an angry tone to her voice. I despise the nights when she's angry. On nights like these she would punish me if I wasn't perfect. Even if I wasn't the source of her anger.

"Yes ma'am." I repeated. It's sometimes is still hard to be respectful when she speaks of the mother I never have known, and of her death. I hated hearing the sordid details of how my mother suffered for the sins she committed. It made me hate God even more, why was he so mean and constantly trying to get revenge on people who make mistakes, I didn't understand. As my years progressed I began to realize that the goodness I saw in Pastor Morgenstern is what God must really be like.

"Thank him for the bed you sleep in that you don't deserve," She added.

This was her favorite thing to do. She liked reminding me of how much I didn't deserve the things I have. Or the good things her and Pastor Morgenstern have done for me. I do have that to be grateful for, all of my 14 years they have given me things that my ill-mother wasn't able to give me. My mother passed away giving birth to me, she had heart problems and knew the risks of having children, but still went through with the pregnancy. The doctors say there was a good chance I wouldn't of made it either because I was born as a preemie. Three pounds, 9 ounces. The first three days of my life were spent in a box in the NICU.

"Yes ma'am." I said for the third, and hopefully final time. I quickly got into my bed with no blankets because Mrs. Morgenstern says I'll be warm enough in hell, and that I should enjoy the cold while I still have. Another good deed she has done for me apparently.

I became stiff when I heard her steps getting closer, and not hearing the sound of being locked in my room. I hope she doesn't make me come down, she'll definitely hit me if I do, and I didn't like to be hit.

"Come down here. I will not talk up to you." I tried to hold in the terror that was rising inside me, and made my way down to the floor. She stood directly in front me with perfect posture, and with her nose tilted up. Her blonde hair was pulled back into the a bun that had become disheveled throughout the day. I avoided looking into her almost black eyes a she began talking.

"And one last thing to say to our dear heavenly father. Thank him for your health and life. Even though you will never be considered beautiful and will never have any hope of reaching that term, you should still be thankful God put you on this earth. Even though of course- you do not deserve-"

"Seelie, I think that's enough for tonight." Pastor Morgenstern's voice interrupted her. I suppose I shouldn't be hurt by being told I was ugly. I've been told by her loads of times, but the pain never dulls when I hear it. She says that because of my mother's sins I was cursed with a face no one would ever be capable of loving. I accepted that I would never have my own love, from the looks of how Pastor and Mrs. Morgenstern act towards each other, It doesn't seem that great. Even though I had already accepted I was ugly, I still hated looking in mirrors. It's always a painful reminder, and I hated the face that stared back at me. The face that has the power to make Mrs. Morgenstern hate me, and Pastor Morgenstern pity me.

"She needs to be reminded, Valentine."

"No. She doesn't, you're angry because me, and this needs to stop. Leave Clarissa alone." He said softly to his wife. I silently thanked whoever was listening that he showed up. When he shows up during my reminders, he always puts a stop to it. This also means I will go a couple days with no punishments because he'll be keeping an extra eye on her. She'll stay far away from me until she's done pouting.

After Mrs. Morgenstern pounds her way out of my room I mumble a thanks to Pastor Morgenstern. Usually he ignores this and follows his wife. He didn't like looking at me either, the few times he has he winced at the sight of my face. It happened a lot lately I guess I'm starting to look even worse.

One day I would get out of this place. I wouldn't have to go to church and pretend to listen about the God these people lived for. The God who killed my mother, and made me ugly. I want to move to a town where no one knows I'm some form of a satanic child. A town where I could just be alone and write.

"Go to bed Clarissa." Pastor Morgenstern whispered, then turned to follow his wife.

"Yes sir, goodnight." I called out, then climbed back up to my bed where I dreamt of a day. The day. The day I get to be set free.

_**Let me know if you think I should continue with this fic or not. I know it's a bit dark in this prologue, but once I bring the infamous Jace it'll get very steamy and maybe a little fluffy. And when Clarissa gets to be on her own it'll get to a place where it won't be so dark. Tell me your opinions. XOXO**_


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